


Soul Enough to Share

by BakenandEggs



Series: A Fledgling and His Sire [2]
Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Childe & Sire Interactions, Childe/Sire Bond(s), Gen, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 07:01:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10916742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BakenandEggs/pseuds/BakenandEggs
Summary: Snapshot after snapshot flew through William’s mind, of the people he had killed, tortured, manipulated, turned. Innocent people who hadn’t deserved to die, but had because Angel had always taught him that the innocent tasted better.That couldn’t have been him, he couldn’t have killed all those people…“No, no, no, no, no, no, no…”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: this story is abandoned. I had always planned to finish it, and was holding off posting these chapters until I had, but I am now stepping away from fanfiction permanently. 
> 
> I am very sorry for not being able to compete this for you!

William followed his sire through the underground tunnels in trepidation. He had no idea why Angel had made another appointment for them to meet with the coven who had removed the spell that Drusilla had cast on him – the spell that made him appear and behave like a master vampire – but he doubted that it could mean anything good. 

He had spent over a century with Drusilla after Angel had left them and, while he found comfort and a sense of belonging in the punishments he received from his sire, Drusilla’s punishments had always left his feeling cold and terrified. He never knew what she would do to him next and there had never seemed to be any logic and reason behind the punishments – which was understandable since logic and reason weren’t things that Drusilla had much of.

Over the years Drusilla had cast hundreds of spells on him, including ones to temporarily blind him, to turn his teeth soft, and to make him see things that weren’t there. It had been enough to put him off witches and magic forever, but apparently his sire didn’t see witches the same way.

As they drew closer to the Coven’s building, William found himself clenching his jaw to try and control his growing fear. It had been less than two days since Angel had punished him for the things that he had said to Cordelia, Gunn, and Wesley, and the timing of this meeting seemed suspicious. What if Angel had decided that his punishment hadn’t been enough and was taken him to the coven so that they could cast some kind of punishment spell on him? If that was the case then he would submit to whatever punishment his sire thought necessary, but the idea still terrified him. 

Mistress Penelope, the female vampire in the coven, met them at the underground entrance, as she had the time before. It seemed as though someone had explained the proper vampire etiquette since their last meeting, because she didn’t so much as glance in William’s direction.

She exchanged brief pleasantries with Angel, before leading them to the same room that they had used last time they had met with the coven. 

Angel paused in the doorway, and turned to look at William. “Stay here.”

William halted in place and bared his neck in acknowledgement, before moving to stand beside the door. The door was shut behind Angel and, thanks to what William was sure was magical sound-proofing, William couldn’t hear anything from inside the room. He stood to attention beside the door, unwilling to relax his posture in case someone walked passed and thought badly of Angel because of him.

1-1-1

“Welcome, Master Angelus.” 

Angel nodded towards the Edmund, the vampire who had greeted him, and then towards Miranda who was the head of the coven.

“Please take a seat, Master Angelus.” Miranda requested patiently.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me again.” Angel sprawled himself out on one of the few empty seats in the circle

“Did you not bring your childe with you?” One of the women asked.

“He is outside.” Angel explained shortly, before turning his attention back to Miranda. “Can it be done?”

Miranda looked amused, as though understanding that his shortness was born from anticipation. “It can.”

Angel couldn’t have stopped the resulting smile if he had wanted to. It was possible, his curse could be extended to his childer, he wouldn’t have to be alone anymore!

“But we have some questions.” Miranda added.

Angel nodded willingly, to overcome with joy to speak.

“Do you wish to extend the curse only to your childer? Or to your entire line?” Edmund started.

“I hadn’t considered that the second option would be a possibility.” Angel admitted. “But if it were a possibility, then that would be my preference.”

“You understand of course that the line we are referring to is not the Line of Aurelius?” A woman asked cautiously. “We would only be able to extend the curse to the line coming from you.”

Angel was hard pressed not to roll his eyes. “I do.”

“If we were to do this,” Miranda spoke quietly. “We would want to remove the escape clause in the curse.”

Angel’s eyes darted towards her in surprise. “Is that possible?”

“Of course.” One of the men sounded offended.

“Do you have any objections?” Miranda asked.

“Of course not.” Angel assured her quickly. If there was no happiness clause maybe he could get back together with Buffy. Except…no…that would never work. Buffy had never been very accepting of his vampire nature, not even of the miniscule amount of that nature that had remained after the first curse. There was no way she would be willing to live with him as he was now.

“We will need to use one of your childer as an amplifier.” Miranda told him, her eyes flicking towards to door behind which William stood. “It will be painful, but will do your childe no long term harm.”

Angel nodded in acceptance. “Fine. Anything else.”

“Would you be willing for us to send a message along with the curse?” One of the women asked. 

Angel frowned. “What sort of message?” 

“Your name and location.” Miranda explained simply. “So that your childer will be able to find you if they want.”

Angel was flabbergasted, he hadn’t even known that was a possibility – which wasn’t surprising given his limited understanding of magic – and it was more than he had ever dreamed of. He had hoped that once his childer had souls they would come and find him, but hadn’t even begun to consider how to let them know where he was.

“Certainly. Is there anything else?” 

“Just one final question.” Miranda assured him. “How many vampires do you believe there are of your line?”

Angel considered that. He’d had six childer, and some of them would have created childer, and they definitely would have all made minions. And if their minions had made minions, well, who knew how many there could be. Cordelia’s comment about minions breeding like rabbits came to mind.

“Is there anyway to restrict it to only some of my line?” He asked. “Perhaps only to those of my line within three degrees of separation from me?”

Miranda looked towards one of the other members of the coven.

“It’s possible.” The coven member answered.

“How many vampires would that include?” Miranda asked.

Angel considered it. He had five childer. If each of them had made five vampires (whether childe or minion) and each of those vampires had made three...

“I don’t know.” He admitted. “Maybe ninety?”

“Then we will need our sister covens’ help after all.” Miranda said, though he suspected it was more for the benefit of the coven than it was for him. “I presume you have no objections to their assistance?”

“No.”

“Then Marigold will contact them now,” Miranda nodded to one of the youngest members of the coven. “And we will remove the curse’s escape clause as we wait.”

1-1-1

William thought he had probably been waiting for over twenty minutes when the door opened again and Mistress Penelope beckoned him into the room. 

William entered the room cautiously, looking questioningly to where his sire was sprawled out on a chair to ensure that his presence was permitted.

“In the middle of the circle.” Penelope instructed him gently.

William’s stomach dropped in horror as his worst fears were confirmed. Was Angel really so displeased by him that he felt he needed to resort to magical punishment? What were they going to do to him? He walked into the middle of the circle, before lying down on his back when Angel ordered him to.

He felt horribly vulnerable, lying on the ground surrounded by witches, and it was humiliating to know that his sire and the two vampire witches would be able to smell his fear.

“Do you wish us to restrain him?” One of the older witches, who William recognised as being the head of the coven, asked Angel.

Angel was silent for a few seconds before replying. “Yes.”

Within a few seconds William could feel his body being frozen in place by magic. It was terrifying but, beyond that, he didn’t think he had ever been so ashamed of himself in his life. Did his sire not trust him to hold still during the punishment? That had been one of the first lessons his sire had ever taught him and William had mastered it within his first year as a fledgling. Had his sire’s trust of him fallen so low? And how embarrassing it must be for his sire to have to request restraints for his childe in front of other vampires. 

1-1-1

Angel ignored his twinge of guilt as the scent of his childe’s fear flooded the room. He knew the humans wouldn’t notice it, and the two other vampires wouldn’t care, but it made him wonder whether he ought to have told his childe what he had asked the coven to do. 

He had no idea what idea theory his childe had concocted about what was happening but, whatever it was, it had William more terrified than Angel had ever seen him. It made Angel angry, not at William, but at Drusilla who he was sure had been the one to put such a fear of magic in his childe. What had she done to William to make him so afraid?

“Lie down, William, on your back.” Angel instructed, once his childe was standing in the middle of the circle.

“Do you wish us to restrain him?” Miranda asked gently.

Angel considered that, remembering both times that he had been cursed with a soul. “Yes.”

He swallowed down a wince when the scent of his childe’s shame flooded through the room, overpowering the scent of fear. He should have considered that William would interpret the need for restraints as a sign of failure, but it was too late to do anything about it now. 

“Master Angel?” Miranda asked, standing from her chair. “If you would come and kneel over him.”

Angel did as instructed, placing a knee on either side of his childe’s stomach, and trying to ignore his childe’s distraught expression. 

The members of the coven were surrounded them now, standing hand and hand, and Angel looked down at William who eyes were fixed on him in obvious terror. 

“It’s alright, childe.” Angel murmured softly. “Trust me.”

William blinked, but the terror in his eyes did seem to lessen.

The witches began chanting something and, after a few minutes, Angel could hear other voices echoing the chants as well. Soon after that, Angel felt a pain in his chest that was indescribable, except to compare it to the two times he had been cursed with a soul in the past. The feeling didn’t just stay in his chest, but slowly flooded through his entire body. Seconds later, William’s eyes widened in horror and, if he had been able to move, Angel was sure that is childe would have been screaming. The chanting seemed to go on and on, and while Angel’s pain slowly lessened, William’s didn’t seem to.

Eventually though, the chanting slowed, and the extra voices disappeared, until it was only the coven that was physically present that could be heard, and then even they stopped.

Then the spell that had been restraining William was gone and his childe began to shake his head and mutter, “No, no, no, no…”

Angel shifted position, so that he was no longer kneeling over his childe, and gently ran a hand through William’s hair. “It’s alright, childe.”

“No, no, no, no, I killed them…I killed them…no, no, no, no…” William expression was devastated.

“It is done.” Miranda rasped tiredly. “You have many more vampires in your line that you suspected.

“There was one problem,” Edmund, the oldest vampire in the coven, started. “One of your childer resisted the curse and we were not able to get past their defences.”

“Drusilla.” Angel said immediately. “She is the only one of my childer who practises any kind of magic.” He couldn’t find it in himself to be sad that she had not received a soul though, not with the recent memory of William’s terror of magic. He was sure that he would mourn her later, but for now he was just glad that William, and his other childer, were safe.

1-1-1

A young girl screaming, screaming, screaming, until suddenly she had no life left to scream with.

“Master Angelus of the Line of Aurelius, Hyperon Hotel, Los Angeles.”

A man, not much older than Cordelia was, screaming in despair as William pinned him to a wall with a railroad spike through his stomach before draining his girlfriend in front of him.

“Master Angelus of the Line of Aurelius, Hyperon Hotel, Los Angeles.”

A child younger than ten, lying dead after William had obediently helped Drusilla kill an entire orphanage worth of children.

“Master Angelus of the Line of Aurelius, Hyperon Hotel, Los Angeles.”

Snapshot after snapshot flew through William’s mind, of the people he had killed, tortured, manipulated, turned. Innocent people who hadn’t deserved to die, but had because Angel had always taught him that the innocent tasted better. 

That couldn’t have been him, he couldn’t have killed all those people…

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no…”

1-1-1

Angel carried William back through the underground tunnels and into the hotel. His childe was still paralysed by the guilt that his newfound soul had induced and seemed completely unaware of his surroundings.

“Angel?” Cordelia’s voice called in concern, as she ran towards them her heels clicking against the floor. “What happened? Is William alright?”

“He’s fine.” Angel assured her, before looking back down at his childe’s distraught expression. “Well, he will be fine.”

“What happened?” Cordelia asked again, as she reached his side. “God, he looks terrible.”

“Are Gunn and Wesley here?” Angel asked, beginning to walk towards the sitting room.

“Yeah,” Cordelia answered. “Wesley’s in the office and Gunn’s in the training room. Is William saying something?” 

“Why don’t you go get them?” Angel suggested, pushing open the living room door. “I want to tell you all at once.”

Cordelia didn’t look impressed and, for a second, Angel thought that she would argue with him, but then she turned on her heels. “Fine.”

Angel lowered himself in his chair and settled William in his lap.

“No, no, no, no…” William was muttering and the sound broke Angel’s heart. 

He still remembered how he had felt when he had first been cursed with a soul: the overwhelming guilt and despair, the way he had suddenly remembered every single person that he had killed, the desperate need to deny that any of it happened. He felt guilty for forcing his childer to suffer through the same thing. At least William had him here to comfort him, what must Abel, Jareth and Silas be feeling? What about his grandchilder (most of whom had never met)? 

“Angel?” Wesley sounded worried as he rushed into the room. “What happened? Cordelia said that there was something wrong with William. Good lord, he looks awful.”

Angel ran a hand through William’s hair in an attempt to comfort him. “He’s fine, Wes.”

“He doesn’t look fine.” Cordelia argued, as she entered the room, Gunn at her heels.

“He really doesn’t.” Gunn agreed, blanching at the sight of William’s face.

“Spill!” Cordelia ordered him, sitting primly on the nearest armchair. “What happened? I thought you were going to the coven.”

“No, no, no, no, no…”

Angel shook his head to try and block out the sound of William’s constant muttering.

“You didn’t go to the coven?” Wesley questioned.

“No, we did.” Angel corrected. “I asked the coven last week to look into whether it would be possible to extend my curse to William and my other childer.”

There was a long silence before:

“What?”

“Are you serious?”

“You’re telling us that he has a soul now?!”

“That’s why he looks so upset.” Angel explained patiently. “When I first got my soul I felt as though I was reliving every depraved thing I had ever done.”

“No, no, no, no, no…” William tossed his head from side to side.

“You gave him a soul?” Cordelia asked incredulously. “I…I don’t even know what to say.”

“You mentioned your other childer.” Wesley said slowly. “Does that they will also be going through something similar?”

“Yes,” Angel nodded, ignoring the twinge of guilt in his gut. “All of them except Drusilla, the coven said that she somehow managed to block the curse.”

“So there are five vampires with souls in the world now?” Gunn asked, he didn’t sound particularly thrilled about the idea.

“No, more than that.” Angel replied. “They extended the curse to my entire line.”

“Just how many vampires are we talking about here?” Cordelia asked.

“Maybe ninety?”

The three humans all exchanged glances. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t talk this through with us!” Cordelia snapped. “You’ve known this was going to happen for a week and you didn’t say anything!”

“I knew it was a possibility, not that it was definitely going to happen.” Angel corrected. 

“I hardly think that is enough of an excuse for you to have not have discussed it with us.” Wesley reprimanded.

Angel shook his head in frustration. “This wasn’t about you, this was about my childer.”

“But didn’t you make us masters in your court or something?” Cordelia pointed out. “Doesn’t that count for anything?”

“No.” Angel answered flatly. “As masters in my court, my decision would be final. As my friends I allow for a lot more leeway, but this wasn’t about my court or my friends. This was about my family.”

“But don’t you think that this will affect your court?” Wesley asked. “What will happen to us if all these vampires decide to visit you?”

Angel looked down at William to try and stall for time. He hadn’t actually considered that. He’d been so excited at the idea of getting his childer back that he hadn’t considered what it might mean in the bigger picture.

“Angel?” Wesley prompted.

“I didn’t think of that.” Angel admitted. “But we’ll make it work. Even when they arrive, I’ll still be the Master of the Court. Your positions will be safe.”

“What about our necks?” Gunn’s arms were crossed over his chest.

“They will have souls.” Angel reminded him.

Wesley was studying him with narrowed eyes. “That sounded as though you’re expecting them to arrive.”

“I am.” Angel swallowed down a wince. “The coven sent a message along with the curse telling them where I am.”

“What?!”

“Are you kidding me right now?!”

“Angel! What were you thinking?!”

Angel closed his eyes with a groan, yeah, that had pretty much been the reaction he had been expecting.

1-1-1

Abel had always loved fighting – he’d been a prizefighter when was human and, after he was turned, he had eagerly soaked up Angelus’ coaching on how best to use his newly found strength to his best advantage. He’d easily outmatched Angelus by the time he became a master and had earned a name for himself during the following ten years that he spent serving as his grandsire Darla’s enforcer. 

Darla had been a bitch though and eventually his hatred and disdain for her had outweighed his love and loyalty for his sire, and he had left. He had still visited often, especially during the years that Jareth and Silas were fledglings. But after the Terrible Two, as Angelus had affectionately named them, had left the court and joined him he hadn’t visited as often. 

It had been over a century since he had seen Angelus, not since before his sire had been cursed with a soul, but he often thought of him. Occasionally news would trickle through the demon world things Angelus had done. He’d been pleased to hear that his sire had staked Darla, though it was troubling as well. He remembered how much Angelus had loved her. How much had his sire changed? 

The news of Penn’s death had been even more troubling. Abel had never liked his sire’s eldest childe, neither had Jareth and Silas for that matter, but Angelus had doted on him. It made Abel fear for what would happen if he and his sire ever cross paths – he had no fear of being staked by his sire as Penn had been, Abel was too good of a fighter for that, but he didn’t ever want to be placed in a situation where he had to defend himself from his sire.

The worst part was knowing just how much Angelus would have hated who he had become. Abel had childer of his own, not to mention three grandchilder, and he couldn’t imagine ever attempting to stake them. They were his childer, his family, members of his court – he’d rather cut out his own heart than stake them. 

Sometimes Abel wondered whether his sire was better off dead than like this. Surely Angelus would rather be die than to be allowed to stake his childer – even if they were arrogant bastards like Penn. 

Abel sighed heavily. On days like this he wondered whether he ought to travel to LA and kill his sire himself. He couldn’t imagine doing it, but maybe it was the right thing to do. Better than, then one of his sire’s younger childer finding themselves at the wrong end of their sire’s stake.

“M-master Abel?” A minion asked, stepping forward tentatively. “Did you want something, master?’

Abel picked up a stake that he always kept near his chair for these exact reasons and, without looking towards the minion, let it fly. The stake imbedded itself in the minion’s heart and seconds later he exploded into dust. 

Abel held out a hand imperiously and waited until another minion, who reeked of fear, ran forward and handed him another stake. He would have to have a word with Elias about having allowed such a poorly trained minion to serve him. Abel smirked darkly, it had been too long since he had spent some quality time whipping the skin off his eldest childe’s back.

Suddenly, without warning, a pain struck Abel in the heart. He swallowed down his first scream, but the pain increased and there was nothing he could do but let out his second and third scream. He could hear other screams echoing his own along with a voice repeating the same words, over and over.

_ “Master Angelus of the Line of Aurelius, at the Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles.” _

What was happening? What did it mean?

1-1-1

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

William opened his eyes and sat up as he heard his sire stirring, before looking around in confusion. He had no memory of going to bed, what had happened? The last thing he remembered was going to the coven with his sire and...

The guilt was like a punch in the gut and William wrapped his arms around his stomach to try and protect himself. He didn’t understand, why was he feeling like this? What had the coven done to him?

“How do you feel?” Angel asked, his concern audible.

William looked up at him. “I don’t understand.”

Angel’s expression was uncharacteristically soft. “You have a soul.”

William stared at him uncomprehendingly. “What?”

“I asked the coven to extend my curse to you.” Angel explained. “You have a soul, just like I do.”

“Oh.” William wondered whether he should be angry. Drusilla’s version of him would have been. Spike would have been furious and would have ranted about how Angel had no right to do that to him, but William didn’t agree. His sire had every right to do whatever he wished to him, and as a fledgling William had to submit to whatever decisions his sire made. It wasn’t even a hardship.

“Anything to say, boyo?” 

William hurriedly bared his neck. “No, sire.”

Angel studied him for a few seconds. “Up you get then.”

William stood from his mattress and carefully folded his blanket, before making his way into Angel’s ensuite for a shower. Once he was clean, he braced himself against the wall for his morning caning. The sensation of the cane landing on his bare back was comforting, at least some things hadn’t changed – even if his stomach was still churning with guilt.

The humans all looked relieved to see him when he followed Angel into the kitchen.

“How are you, William?” Cordelia asked gently.

William had been making his way towards the fridge to get some blood for Angel, froze and turned to face her – his neck bared respectfully. “Well, Mistress Cordelia.”

Cordelia’s relieved smile grew. “Good. We were worried about you.”

William wasn’t sure what to say, so he waited silently until Angel gestured him to continue on to the fridge. 

“So he’s alright then?” Gunn asked Angel.

“He’s right there, Gunn!” Cordelia groused. “You could always ask him yourself, or just listen when I ask him things.”

“William is fine.” Angel answered, ignoring the byplay. “He seems to be feeling some guilt, as would be expected, but there is nothing wrong with him.”

William poured blood into a mug and placed it in the microwave, he would definitely have described the churning guilt in his stomach as being more than just some.

“So what now?” Cordelia asked, and the sound of her voice reminded William that he hadn’t put the kettle on yet for her coffee.

“Now we go on as normal.” Angel answered. “Though we never did have that conversation about what William would do to help.”

“I liked the idea of him guarding the entrance hall.” Gunn commented. “Especially now that we might have any number of your kids turning up at any moment.”

“Sounds good to me,” Cordelia commented. “Just so long as he still does the filing too.”

Wesley snorted disparagingly. “What exactly is it that you do around here, Cordelia?”

William froze in surprise. Didn’t Cordelia outranked Wesley? If so, why would he dare to question her so disrespectfully? Or had he been wrong? Did Wesley outrank Cordelia?

“Hey!” Cordelia protested. “I answer phones! I get visions! I don’t see you doing either of those things.”

William retrieved his sire’s blood from the microwave with a frown. If Cordelia outranked Wesley why hadn’t she rebuked him for his disrespectful comment? But if Wesley outranked Cordelia why had she replied so rudely? Humans were just so confusing!

He carried the blood to his sire, before waiting patiently at Angel’s elbow. 

After a few seconds, Angel turned his attention to William. “Drink it.”

William bared his neck in understanding and stepped back before quickly draining the mug and turning his attention to the boiling kettle. The second mug, which he knew his sire would also want him to drink, would be ready in under a minute, but he needed to get started on the humans’ drinks.

“So William will guard the entrance hall.” Angel told the humans. “And do any filing that might need to be done.”

“We should some more advertising.” Cordelia said suddenly. 

Angel groaned. “Whenever we do any advertising I end up running around after cheating husband and lost kittens.”

“The lost kitten thing only happened once!” Cordelia told him. “And you need to just suck it up, we need the money. I need the money! My rent is due in a week!”

William carefully carried Angel and Cordelia’s coffees towards them. He placed the drinks on the island they were sitting around, before returning to the microwave that had just binged. He’d had no idea that money was a problem for his sire. He wondered if he should mention the large account that he had with Barclays? His stomach churned with guilt as he remembered the ways he had gotten his hands on the money (usually by stealing from someone he’d just eaten and then selling it for cash), but there was no point in ignoring it if it could help.

“Hey!” Gunn exclaimed suddenly. “Why did they get their coffees? Where’s mine?”

William froze in fear, a half empty mug of blood against his lips. 

“Leave him alone.” Cordelia reprimanded him. “He’ll get there.”

“Yeah, but you always get your coffee first.” Gunn complained. “Why do I always get it last?”

“You don’t, Wesley does.” Angel sounded amused.

Relieved that the focus was off him, at least for the moment, William placed the half empty mug on the bench and returned his attention to making Gunn and Wesley’s drinks.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Wesley sounded surprise. “Why?”

“Because William has decided that the hierarchy of my court goes me, Cordelia, Gunn, and finally, you, Wesley.”

William swallowed heavily at the words Angel had chosen. Things rarely went well for fledglings when they ‘decided things’. He picked up the drinks he had just made and carefully carried them over to the humans

“Not a chance!” Gunn denied loudly, as William placed his coffee in front of him. 

Wesley looked more curious than anything. “Do you know why, Angel?”

“No,” Angel admitted, still sounding amused. “Usually an ability to fight and age are the main factors, but that is clearly not the criteria that William used.” 

“William?” Wesley asked.

William paused on his way back to the microwave, and turned to face the human. “Yes, Master Wesley?”

“Why do you think that Cordelia outranks us?”

“Because you obey her orders, Master Wesley.” William answered simply.

“I don’t!” Gunn protested.

“Hey!” Cordelia frowned at the man. “Just what would be so wrong with obeying my orders anyway? This better not be about me being a woman!”

“No, this is about you being a ditz!” Gunn returned. 

“Yeah? Well you’re a brute!” Cordelia snapped at him.

William shrunk back, away from the warring masters. 

“William?” Angel’s voice broke through their arguing. “Were there any other reasons?”

“Mistress Cordelia is a seer, sire.” William answered quietly.

Angel nodded. “And why is Gunn above Wesley?”

William couldn’t help but feel as though this entire conversation was a trap. “He is your enforcer, sire.”

“What?!” Gunn pushed himself to his feet, the barstool he had been sitting on clattering to the ground behind him. 

“It’s not a bad thing.” Angel pointed out. “Most vampires would consider it an honour to be an enforcer in a master’s court.”

“Yeah? Well I’m not a vampire, am I?” Gunn growled. “And I’m no one’s enforcer.” 

William moved backwards, stopping only when the bench was pressed up against his back. Then he turned around and quickly downed the half-filled mug of blood that he had left there. His sire seemed to be in a good humour now, but that could change at any moment (especially given the way that the humans were still yelling), and William didn’t want to be in the line of fire when that happened – especially not for having failed to drink enough blood to fill his sire when he drained him.

“So if Cordelia is a seer and Gunn is an enforcer,” Wesley was frowning. “What am I?”

“William?” Angel asked lightly.

“I don’t know, sire.” William admitted reluctantly.

Wesley looked disappointed. “Oh.”

The microwave binged and, seeing that neither his sire nor Wesley were paying him any attention, William turned and pulled the last mug out of the microwave. Cordelia and Gunn were still arguing as he quickly swallowed down the blood and then moved to kneel beside his sire’s stool.

“I don’t know why you’re so upset, Gunn.” Wesley grumbled. “At least you’re not at the bottom.”

“You’re not at the bottom, Wes.” Angel told him comfortingly. “William is.”

“Yes, because that makes me feel so much better.” Wesley sounded sarcastic.

“What the hell is a vampire enforcer anyway?” Gunn asked grumpily.

“They are normally the most dangerous vampire in the court. I imagine that’s why William thought it was your job.” Angel explained, though his tone was starting to have some edge to it. 

“Hey!” Wesley protested weakly.

“Yeah, but what do they do?” Gunn asked.

“They protect the Master of the Court.” Angel answered simply, his hand coming to rest on the back of William’s neck.

“Which would be you.” Gunn sounded unimpressed.

Angel’s hand tightened on William neck. “Yes, and they dole out any punishments that the Master delegates. They’re the one who ensures that there is order in the court.”

“Huh.” Gunn sounded almost pleased by that. “How did Vision Girl over there get higher up the hierarchy than the enforcer? Not that I’m saying I am your enforcer or anything!” He added quickly.

“William seems to believe that you follow Cordelia’s orders.” Angel said, his grip loosening. “Besides, seers are very valuable.”

“I don’t follow anyone’s orders!” Gunn protested.

William winced as Angel’s grip tightened again, before quickly scrambling for purchase on the floor when his sire lifted him by the neck. His feet had only just hit the floor when Angel’s teeth sunk into his neck.

For a second it sounded as though Cordelia was choking on air, but when she spoke she sounded normal (though her voice was a little high pitched). “I don’t see why you’re getting so upset about it, Gunn. It’s not as though Angel is the one who thinks you’re his enforcer, it’s just William. He’s probably just trying to interpret us into vampire terms.”

“Easy for you to say.” Gun grumbled. “You’re at the top.”

“That’s a very astute observation, Cordelia.” Wesley commented. “I believe you are right.”

“No need to sound so surprised about it.” Cordelia complained. “I can be astute.”

Gunn snorted. “Do you even know what astute means?”

“Of course I do!” Cordelia protested. “I did graduate high school you know. Do you?”

2-2-2

After Angel and the humans had finished breakfast, and William had replaced the blood his sire had drained from him, Angel instructed William to stand inside the door of the hotel and greet anyone who might arrive.

It was a job that would have normally been assigned to a minion rather than a fledgling, but the thought of minions turned William’s stomach. How many minions had he turned in the last century to do that sort of job? He didn’t know the exact number, but he knew that it had to be over a hundred. Over a hundred people dead because he thought that he needed a doorman. It made William’s stomach churn.

The worst thing about the job he had been assigned was the time it gave him to dwell on the guilt that his new soul was emitting. The guilt was almost overpowering and, without anything to distract himself from him, William found himself recalling the numerous people had murdered in Sunnydale alone. No wonder the Slayer and her friends had hated him – he had been depraved. It was hard to believe that just yesterday he hadn’t truly understood why they were so against his feeding habits. It was a wonder they hadn’t just staked him, though Buffy had certainly tried before the Initiative had stuck a chip in his head. 

William shifted uncomfortably, before stilling when he remembered where he was. How he hated the Initiative for what they had done for him, but now he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit of gratitude – because of them he hadn’t murdered anyone in almost a year. Countless lives had been saved because of the chip in his head, though that didn’t mean that he still didn’t want to bash some of their heads in.

Well not bash their heads in, William corrected as his stomach churned again, but certainly give them some bruises and broken bones. There was nothing wrong with that!

2-2-2

Jareth leaned casually against the side of a building and watched proudly as Florence, his only childe, forced blood down the throat of the dying woman that she had chosen to be her first childe. He remembered the night that he had turned Florence as though it had been yesterday. It had been a bittersweet moment for him, sweet because of Florence, but bitter because his own sire had been absent. He had missed Angelus terribly that night. Oh, who was he kidding, he had missed Angelus terribly for the last century.

He regretted having left Darla’s court more than he could say. Sure Darla had been a horrible bitch, and he was bloody glad she was dead, but he should have stayed for sire. He had presumed that Angelus would be around forever, that there would be plenty of time to reunite with him in the future, but then his sire had been gone – cursed – and Jareth had never seen him again.

So he had created Florence to keep him company. In hindsight, it had been a terrible reason to create a childe, but he had been young and hadn’t known any better – he hadn’t had a sire around to teach him better. 

“Sire?” Florence looked up from the dying girl in her arms. “Is that sufficient?”

Jareth pushed himself off the wall and strode closer. “It was not my body that the blood was leaving, childe. Do you believe it to be sufficient?”

Florence looked down at the girl who was now lying limp in her arms. “Yes.”

“Then trust yourself.” Jareth admonished.

“Thank you, sire.” Florence smiled, as she stood from her crouched position. 

Jareth reached out a hand and pushed brunette hair away from the dead girl’s face, unintentionally smearing blood against her pale cheek. “You have chosen well, she will make a fine addition to our line.”

Florence’s expression lit up. “Thank you, sire.”

They walked silently back to the mansion that Jareth had commandeered for the time they were staying in Vienna, Florence’s attention on the body in arms and Jareth’s on his sire.

Jareth didn’t think that Silas, who had been born as his brother and then turned by Angelus as his twin, had missed their sire in the same way that he had. But then Silas had never gotten along with Angelus like Jareth had, mostly because Silas had never seemed willing to bare his neck to anyone unless forced and Angelus had been only too glad to force him.

Silas’ pride had been the reason that they had eventually parted ways with Abel as well, since Angelus’ second oldest childe hadn’t appreciated Silas’ constant disrespect. Jareth didn’t really understand what Silas’ problem was, but he knew that it hadn’t been a side effect of his brother being turned – Silas had been that way when they were human as well. Still, despite the anger that Jareth sometimes felt towards his brother, Silas’ constant presence throughout the years had made Angelus’ absence easier to bear.

Even now that they were almost a century and a half old, and had their own childer and grandchilder, they still shared a court. They had agreed to share the role of Master of the Court, though more often than not Silas ended up acting as though he alone was in control. Jareth knew that Abel disapproved of him letting Silas get away with it (after all, Jareth was both older and more physically able), but Jareth didn’t mind it so much. Better that, than having Silas leave like Angelus had.

Jareth strode through the front door of the mansion, before stopping in surprise when he saw Silas standing in the hall a minion lying prostrate at his feet

“Took you long enough.” Silas complained, looking away from the minion. “Where have you been?”

“Florence has found herself a childe.” Jareth answered proudly, stepping aside so that Silas could see the girl that Florence was carrying.

Silas’ eyes gleamed with interest and, stepping over the minion at his feet, he reached out a hand and grasped the dead girl’s hair before using it to force the girl’s head into a better position to see her face. 

“Very nice.”

Florence’s expression twisted angrily and Jareth could see that she was seconds away from yanking the girl away from Silas. While it was certainly Silas’ right (as one of the two Masters of the Court) to look at the girl, it wasn’t polite to do so.

Jareth stepped between them smoothly. “You were waiting for me, brother?”

Silas dragged his gaze from the girl to Jareth. “We’re going hunting.”

Jareth could feel Florence shifting behind him, Silas’ lack of respect for him was as frustrating for her as it was Abel. “Of course.”

He turned towards Florence, ready to tell her to take her new childe upstairs, but he never got the words out. 

Pain! There was so much pain! He was vaguely aware that he was screaming as he collapsed to the floor, one hand on his heart as though it would protect him from the pain. He could hear Silas and Florence screaming as well, along with other voices that he didn’t recognise so clearly and a voice repeating something.

_ “Master Angelus of the Line of Aurelius, at the Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles.” _

2-2-2

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

William had been standing inside the door of the Hyperion Hotel for over six hours by the time Wesley ordered him into the kitchen for dinner. Six hours during which not one single being, human or otherwise, had come to the door. It had been bloody boring and William couldn’t help but hope that his sire would give him a different task to do after they had eaten.

As had become his routine, William moved around the kitchen - warming up blood and making hot drinks – before kneeling at Angel’s side to wait for his next order (or for Angel to be feeling peckish). He didn’t have to wait long and, within a minute of him kneeling, Angel was pulling him up and sinking his teeth into William’s neck.

It was only the third time that Angel had chosen to drink from him in front of the humans and William noted that for the first time none of the humans’ breathing had hitched at the sight. The humans just continued talking about the axe that Gunn wanted to buy, which led to a conversation about an old book that Wesley was hoping to get his hands on, and then when that conversation had lulled, Gunn turned to Angel.

“Angel, man, you know what the problem with this plan is?”

“Gunn, don’t interrupt Angel when he’s eating.” Cordelia admonished the man.

Gunn ignored her. “We’ve got William guarding the door in case any of your kids drop in, but aren’t they more likely to arrive after dusk? When they won’t go up in flames?”

Angel withdrew his teeth from William’s neck, but didn’t release him. “So?”

Gunn grimaced. “Urg, swallow and then talk man. We don’t need to see all that blood in your mouth.”

“I think the point that Gunn is attempting to make, is that there’s no point in having William guard the front door during daylight if the vampires can just walk in after dark.” Wesley said with an amused smirk.

“Shouldn’t we be guarding the underground entrance then?” Cordelia asked. “Since that would be the way that they would get in?”

“This is why vampires have minions.” Angel told them, his frustration audible.

“We could lock the underground entrance.” Wesley suggested.

“What? And put a little note on the door telling them to come around the front?” Gunn asked sarcastically.

“I don’t see why not.” Wesley retorted. “At least then we would only have one entrance to worry about.”

“What about at night though?” Gunn asked.

“William and I don’t usually go to bed until around two or three anyway.” Angel told him.

“That still leaves five hours during which the vampires could just walk in.” Gunn pointed out.

“Why do you care so much?” Cordelia asked him. “It’s not like you’ll be here.”

“Yeah, but Angel will be.” Gunn argued. “What if one of them is pissed that he gave them a soul and wants to kill him?”

William started in shock, Angel had only told him that he’d extended the curse to him. But if what Gunn was saying was true, then Angel had extended it further than that. Did that mean that Drusilla had a soul now? Or Abel, Jareth and Silas?

“Then William will save him.” Cordelia said confidently. “Like he did when Darla was here.”

Gunn frowned at her. “I’m just saying, I don’t think we’ve thought this through.”

Angel growled. “We’ll lock the underground entrance and send William to bed now. Then, when it’s dark, William will stand guard at the door again.” 

With that said, Angel sunk his teeth back into William’s neck with a viciousness that hadn’t been there before. William swallowed down a grimace at the pain (and at the knowledge that he would be spending many more hours guarding the door).

“See?” Cordelia asked reproachfully. “This is why you shouldn’t interrupt Angel when he’s eating. He gets all growly.”

3-3-3

William eyed Angel cautiously, as the humans left them alone in the kitchen. If there was ever going to be a time to bring up the subject of money with his sire, this would be it. After all, Angel was always mellower after he had eaten. Of course the fact that William was most of the way drained of blood wasn’t exactly helping his thought processes. 

“Sire?”

Angel raised an eyebrow lazily. “Yes, William?”

William had no idea how to start. “I, uh, heard, that is that I know that, um…”

“If you don’t spit it out soon, childe, I will ensure that it is blood that you are spitting.” Angel growled.

“I have money, sire.” William said, so quickly that the words seemed to run into each other.

Angel’s expression was neutral. “Oh?”

“An account with Barclays.” William expanded, trying to ignore the almost overwhelming guilt that apparently now came attached to the money.

“How much?” 

“Millions.” William admitted. 

Angel looked surprised. “And how did you come to have such a fortune?”

“I got tired of the effort that went into stealing a mansion every time Mistress Drusilla wanted to move.” William explained. “So I stole a few of my victims’ fortunes and invested it.”

“To think that one of my childer became a petty thief.” Angel’s tone was sardonic. “Darla would be so proud. I presume that you mean to give this money to me?”

William nodded quickly. “Of course, sire.”

“Cordelia will be happy.” Angel mused. “And it does mean no more kittens.” He dropped a hand down to ruffle William’s hair. “Thank you, childe, you always were the smartest of all your siblings. Heat yourself up some blood and explain to me I can access this account.”

3-3-3

William slept for a couple of hours, before being roused by Angel and instructed to stand guard at the door. He obeyed, of course, but now as well as a churning gut (courtesy of the guilt caused by his new soul) he also had a swirling mind. He had so many questions that he wanted to ask Angel about, but couldn’t until his sire gave him the opportunity.

Had Angel really extended his soul to all of his childer? What about their childer? As far as he knew, Abel had three, Jareth one, and Silas had two. Drusilla didn’t have any childer and William wasn’t even sure that she was capable of making them. What about Angel’s great-grand-childer? 

William could understand why Angel had done it, but he couldn’t help but be a little petrified at the idea of being reunited with his sire’s older childer. He knew he didn’t have to worry about Penn, since apparently he was dust now, but Penn had never been the most dangerous of the childer. No, that spot was entirely reserved for Silas – the younger of Angel’s Terrible Two. Where Abel was harsh and exacting, and Jareth had been the same, only gentler, Silas was cruel. 

The worst part was that William knew that there was a lot of deserved punishment in his future if Angel was reunited with his childer. While Angel had apparently been willing to let bygones be bygones when he accepted William back in his court, William doubted that the Abel and Silas would be.

William and Drusilla had run into Jareth and Silas fifteen years after Angel had left. Which given the fictional timeline that Drusilla had invented, had meant that William was supposed to have been a master for five years. Drusilla, eager to have it known that she was under the protection of one her sire’s saner childer, had forced William to interact with them. An interaction which, given the nature of the spell she had cast on William, hadn’t gone well. William had been audacious and rude, and had barely escaped with his skin attached.

It had been twenty years later that they had run into Abel, and that interaction had gone much the same. In fact, the best thing William could say about it was that he was pretty sure that he hadn’t given the older vampire the finger. Yeah, he was going to be in a world of pain if he ever saw them again – souls or no souls.

It was nearing three in the morning, after Angel had retired to bed leaving William the only one awake, that he heard someone coming to the door of the Hyperion. 

William quickly inhaled through his nose. The visitor was definitely a vampire, but he didn’t recognise the scent and it didn’t smell as though he had washed recently.

Nevertheless, William quickly moved to pulled open the door to allow the vampire in, while casually resting his hand on the stake in the waistband of his trousers.

The vampire, who was clearly just a minion, scampered into the room, his eyes darting side to side, before noticing William and dropping into a defensive crouch.

William’s hand closed around the stake. “What is your business at the Court of Master Angel, of the Line of Aurelius?”

The vampire’s eyes darted towards William’s face and then away again. “Master Angelus of the Line of Aurelius?”

“No.” William answered flatly. “Who are you?”

“Martin.” The vampire’s eyes darted back towards William. “I’m looking for Master Angelus of the Line of Aurelius.”

“Yeah, I got that.” William pointed out. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” Martin admitted with a groan, his right hand beginning to scratch violently at his chest. “I don’t know.”

William watched him with distaste. “Who is your sire?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” Martin groaned. 

“Well, what do you know?” William asked in frustration.

“I have to find Master Angelus of the Line of Aurelius, at the Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles.” Martin answered, as though repeating something. 

The words sounded familiar to William and after a second he remembered why. Those were the words he had heard when he had been lying on the floor after the coven had completed their spell. 

William narrowed his eyes at the minion. “What happened to you, night before last?”

“I don’t know!” Martin wailed. “I wasn’t doing nothing, just getting ready to go and find something to eat.” He shuddered. “And then suddenly everything hurt, it was like being struck by lightning, I reckon, and now I feel awful.” He scratched harder causing his ripped t-shirt to tear. 

“Bloody hell.” William murmured. Had Angel extended his curse to every vampire in the city or something? What was he supposed to do now?

“Who are you anyway?” Martin asked suddenly, his eyes suddenly focussing on William.

“I am William, fledgling childe of Master Angel of the Line of Aurelius.” William answered proudly.

“Is he related to Master Angelus or something?” Martin asked, beginning to scratch absently at his chest again.

William rolled his eyes. “He’s the same person.”

Martin’s eyes widened in hope and he threw himself down so that he was kneeling at William feet. “You’ve got to take me to him! Please! I’m begging you.”

William stepped backwards. “Master Angel is currently unavailable, however, you are welcome to wait.”

“Where?” Martin’s eyes were darting around the room again.

William looked around the room too, before making up his mind. “Outside, in the courtyard.”

Martin’s eyes widened. “But the sunlight!”

“Won’t be up for another three hours at least!” William told him firmly, gesturing for the vampire to stand up and then ushering him back outside. “I will let you back in then.”

3-3-3

William almost didn’t hear the next vampire approach, mostly because he was trying to block out the sound of Martin muttering to himself in the courtyard, but he managed to get the door open just in time.

This vampire was a minion as well, but that was where his similarities with Martin ended. His clothes were clean and expensive looking and, while he looked a little confused, he had a much calmer air about him than Martin. He also seemed to have some court training because, upon entering the hotel, he lowered himself to his knees and bared his neck.

“What is your business at the Court of Master Angel, of the Line of Aurelius?” William asked him.

“I am Kieran and I seek Master Angelus of the Line of Aurelius.” The vampire answered, his tone respectful.

“Master Angel is currently unavailable.” William told him shortly, studying the vampire curiously for signs that he too might have a soul.

Kieran's expression fell. “Please, I must see him.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” Keiran shook his head, causing curls to bounce against his forehead. “I heard his name in my head and…”

“Alright,” William interrupted him, gesturing towards the door out to the courtyard. “You can wait out there with Martin.”

There were a total of six minions waiting the courtyard by the time the sun began to rise and, when William let them back into the house, he fixed them all with firm looks. 

“Master Angel won’t be available yet, so you will have to wait. But don’t you touch a bloody thing!”

Two of the minions bared their necks in understanding, while the other four (Martin included) nodded vigorously. It was easy to tell which of them had been court trained and which hadn’t. 

William had had plenty of time to decide what to do with the minions while they waited for Angel to wake up and had realised that he couldn’t leave them in the entrance hall. Cordelia, Gunn and Wesley always arrived before Angel got up and William didn’t want to create a situation where minions that he had let into the hotel attacked masters of his sire’s court. So, William led them through the entrance hall and then into the office where he had done it filing. Six people squeezed into the office was a tight fit and the desk and filing cabinet didn’t make it any easier, but once they were all in William closed the door. Though not before issuing one more warning about keeping their hands to themselves.

That done, William returned to the door to wait for the humans to arrive, hoping against hope that Angel would wake up first. Judging by the conversations that he had overheard during meals, the humans were not going to be impressed by the visitors.

3-3-3

_ “Master Angelus of the Line of Aurelius, at the Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles.” _

Silas held perfectly still, ignoring for now the words that were echoing through his head, and focussing on the sounds and scents around him. What had happened? Had they been attacked? The last thing he remembered was inspecting his brother’s new grandchilde and then his body being flooded with pain enough to make him collapse. It had to be magic, there was nothing else that could have incapacitated him like that without leaving a mark. 

He carefully sifted through the different sounds and smells that were in the room, before deciding that if there had been an intruder they were long gone (either that, or they were masking their presence with a spell). The only scents he could smell belonged to members of his court, or the dead girl who would soon be his brother’s grandchilde, and they all smelt weirdly guilty. Sure Jareth had always been soft, but he’d never smelt this pathetic before.

Opening his eyes, Silas pushed himself up into a sitting position and looked around. Jareth was still lying on the ground, and he seemed to be muttering to himself.

“It can’t be…no, no, never…I wouldn’t…no…no…”

Silas sneered in disdain. His brother had always been weaker than he was. Jareth’s childe, Florence, was on the floor as well, as was the body of her new childe, and the minion who had been their doorman. What sort of spell could have knocked four vampires out like that?

And what had been the purpose of it? Why incapacitate them and then not make use of the advantage? 

Silas stood to his feet and stepped over the minion to move into the next room, before pausing in surprise when he saw three more minions lying on the floor. They all seemed to be semi-conscious, as Jareth was, and all smelt just as guilty as Jareth and Florence. What was going on?

Ignoring the minions, Silas turned around and made his way back to his brother’s side.

“Jareth?”

Jareth didn’t seem to hear him though and, after a few seconds, Jareth gripped his brother’s shoulder and shook him.

“Jareth!”

Jareth’s eyes flew open. “Silas? Can you feel it? Can you hear them? They’re all screaming, they…”

Silas ignored his brother’s words. What was wrong with Jareth? There was no one screaming, only the sound of Florence and the minions muttering to themselves in horrified tones.

“Feel what?” Silas interrupted his brother’s ramblings abruptly.

“The burning.” Jareth brought a hand up to his chest and rubbed it. “And the guilt!”

Silas sneered and abruptly stood up. Guilt? He didn’t think he had ever felt guilt in his life, and he certainly hadn’t since Angelus had turned him. Neither had Jareth for that matter, well, at least not to this degree. Why would a witch have wanted to make Jareth feel guilty?

Turning on his heel, Silas stepped back over the minion and then over the other minions in the next room. Where were his childer, surely Matvey and Braeden wouldn’t be as affected by the spell as Jareth and Florence. 

Silas strode through the mansion, towards where he thought his childer were most likely to be. Throwing the door of the room open, Silas ignored the half-dead human girl who was hanging from the ceiling and focused his attention to Matvey who was lying sprawled across the floor next to his own fledgling. The scent of guilt filled the room, just as it had the entrance hall. 

Sneering with disgust, Silas stepped into the room and dug his foot into Matvey’s side to wake his childer. 

Matvey shook his head violently. “Please, no, no, no…”

Silas dug his foot in harder. “Matvey!”

Matvey’s eyes opened immediately. “Sire? Please, sire, no, no…”

Silas tuned out his childe’s voice and strode out of the room. Pathetic!

It did raise questions in his head though. What had happened? And why was he the only one who hadn’t been affected past the initial pain? Should he perhaps pretend to have been affected as well, at least until he could figure out what had attacked them and how to stop it? 

Silas threw himself down on one of the chairs, intent on figuring out what information he had. It only took a few seconds for him to remember the words that had echoed through his head when he had woken up.

_ “Master Angelus of the Line of Aurelius, at the Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles.” _

Silas’ lip curled at the thought of his sire. Angelus was a stain on the Line of Aurelius, a vampire with a soul – it was pathetic! But what could he have to do with this? 

Unless…no! Surely not! There was no way that Angelus could have managed that! But if he had, why didn’t Silas feel any different?

  
  
  



End file.
